


Calls for the Heart

by The Dark ChessMaster (The_ChessMaster)



Category: Once Upon a Time (TV)
Genre: Angst with a Happy Ending, F/M, Phone Calls, Rumbelle Christmas in July, Season 4b AU, ThatRavenclawBitch
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-07-23
Updated: 2016-07-23
Packaged: 2018-07-26 07:25:37
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,210
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7565371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/The_ChessMaster/pseuds/The%20Dark%20ChessMaster
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>This is my gift to for ThatRavenclawBitch for the Rumbelle Christmas In July 2016. Her prompt was: Divorce, mutual pining, drunk dial.</p>
<p>In a town like StoryBrooke, one could never be sure why someone would be calling. It could be for an emergency or it could be for the most menial thing. She never thought the person calling would be him…</p>
            </blockquote>





	Calls for the Heart

**Author's Note:**

  * For [ThatRavenclawBitch](https://archiveofourown.org/users/ThatRavenclawBitch/gifts).



_“Hello… Belle, it is me…_  
There is someone there?  
Hello, can you hear me?  
Belle?”

The first time the phone had rung Belle had hurriedly stood up and answered it in the second ring. It was late, she had already had dinner and she was in the living room with a book, trying to loose herself in the imaginary world when it happened. She didn’t even check the ID. In a town like StoryBrooke, one could never be sure why someone would be calling. It could be for an emergency. Or it could be for the most menial thing.

It was _him_ … the one thing she could have never anticipated. Exactly one month after she had banished him from StoryBrooke he had called. The words made a knot in her throat, so tight that the air couldn’t pass. The tears accumulated in her eyes, threatening to fall without control. She couldn’t say anything, she couldn’t think anything. So she hastily hanged up the phone, and expended the night crying.

The next day the phone rang again. At exactly 9:00 pm.

She feared for her heart and her feelings, remembering the emotion she had felt the day before. She had thought it wouldn’t affect her; that her heart couldn’t be more broken. She had been wrong and she didn’t answer the phone.

It rang the next day and the day after that. She thought about disconnect the line or change the number but that would bring up questions, questions that she didn’t feel ready to answer, questions that she didn’t have answers for. And she needed those answers, for her peace of mind at least, and one night hearing the phone ringing and ringing, she had answered it.

She didn’t hear reproaches or accusations; she didn’t hear pleas or excuses. Just a man, tired, wanting to hear her voice. Just a _man_ , not a monster and somehow that broke her heart again. She cried next to the phone while he heard her cries, crying with her, consoling her.

Belle didn’t have the answers she had been looking for when she hanged up but she felt better. She had a reason to answer the phone when it rang the next day.

The next day, Belle went through her day with a soft smile. Internally dreading the 9:00 pm, not knowing if he would call her again or not, if he had been scared off for her crying or if he had found the answers he had been looking for and he was ready to forgive her and forget her…

And then, the phone rang…

* * *

 He had always know it would end up like this, he didn’t know specifics but he did know someday Belle would take off the blindfold from her eyes and would saw him by what he really is and then she would leave him. But knowing it never prepare him for this.

He had grown complacent, thinking he could have it all. What a fool he was, trying to bet against his own destiny.

Belle always said that no one decided her fate but her, and he thought it could apply to him also. It was a banal hope, villains doesn’t get happy endings no matter what they choose.

He missed her. It had been a month since the last time he had seen her or heard her voice. He missed her greatly. He needed her and he had failed her. He cried thinking how hurt she must fell. Did she think it was her fault?

He needed to talk her. He needed to hear her voice just one more time; even if he only heard her insults… after all they were well deserved…

Swallowing his fears, he took the phone…

* * *

The phone calls become their thing. It stared slowly. For the first weeks,at exactly 9:00 pmhe would call, letting the phone ring for exactly one minute, it was Belle’s decision to answer or not. Nothing happened if she didn’t answer the phone. It would ring punctually the next day.

They talked about anything and everything. About their days, the weather, their feelings, the things they have saw, their plans, their dreams… Some days those calls ended with tears, but most days they ended with smiles…

The phone calls brought hope to Belle. The possibility of atonement for decisions took without thinking about the consequences, driven for the pain and hurt.

Then, one day simply almost naturally they broke the schedule. Belle called back.

It took her days to decideto do it. She wanted to do it but she wasn’t sure if it could be appropriated. This was the right time to call him? Wouldn’t he be occupied? Could this be inopportune? This is going to be unexpected, would he answer? What to do if he did not answer? Call again or not? But at the end those questions didn’t matter…

When she called it was on instinct, without considering the questions and doubts that had stopped her from calling before. She was upset and the only person she wanted to talk to was him.

* * *

The day after she had banished Rumple was a day of unofficial celebration. Everyone was so happy that the _monster_ that had ruined their lives for so long was gone. Of course they forgot that the same _monster_ had saved their lives uncountable times. She had gone to Granny’s that morning and everyone had praised her, thanking her for throwing the _beast_ out of their lives. No one though she hadn’t just banished the _monster_ they feared but also the man she loved… and she missed him terrible, seeing everyone happy for his disappearance seemed… cruel. But crueler was that it was _her_ fault… She cried, so sure she would never saw him again. But no one seemed to understand her pain, everyone thought she should be happy to be _free_ of him, but she wasn’t and no one understood why. No one seemed to take in count her feelings; maybe it was because no one cared…

It was on that moment that Belle decided to make right her wrongs and find a way to bring him back, to his home.

The day she called the barrier that surrounded the town had felt, thanks to _Regina_ , even though it had been _her_ research, even though _Belle_ had found the answer, not Regina.

Days before she had told the Charmings she had found a way to destroy the barrier. The _heroes_ had looked at her warily, examining her outburst of happiness when she had told them she had found the spell, silently asking themselves: Why would she want the barrier gone? Was she regretting to have exiled her husband? Or was this one of his tricks, a plot to come back?

They even wanted to check if her heart was still on its place – _Yes_ , it was with her _husband_ , and she hoped that his heart was with her.

It took her almost an hour to convince them that it was for the better if the barrier was gone.Eyeing her suspiciously, maybe not completely convinced; they took her research and left, promising to call her about what they would have decided.

That night, during their call, she asked him if he wanted to come back. He seemed undecided, and cautious.  Belle internally debated if she should tell him about her research. Shedecided against it, it could be just a false hope.

Belle wasn’t even present when the barrier felt. One day, she saw a great commocion in Granny’s and went to investigate. Everyone was congratulating the Mayor. Ruby told her that Regina had found a way to broke the barrier and now it was gone. In that moment she felt numb, it was her work and someone else was taken the credit for it. She had spend nights without sleep, translating the antique text, looking for references, making sure that the spell was the correct one, that it would just destroy the barrier and not the whole town. How can someone oversee that?

Taking deep breath to calm herself, Belle left Granny’s. The _heroes_ didn’t even look on her way.  When she reached the library, she sat in her chair, still trying to stay calm. Then she saw the phone. Almost automatically she made the call…

* * *

To Rumplestiltskin, the phone calls had mean defiance. The rejection of his fate always destined to lose the things he loved. Sometimes he questioned himself if this was the smartest thing to do…

The first time he had called he had been devastated, resigned to his failure, without any hope. He had called out of desperation, longing for his wife and his home.

She had answered the phone so cheerfully; obviously ignoring it was him the caller. The simple sound of her voice had been enough to make him cry of nostalgia. Hehad stuttered in his attempt to say something, anything to justify his call, and that had been enough for her to realize who was calling her… he heard her sobs before she hanged up.

He had hurt her so much, he didn’t want to hurt her more. But he missed her, he needed her like a dying man needs air... and he did know _that_ feeling… but he wouldn’t push Belle. He might call her but she would decide if she wanted to talk to him or not.That was how he devised the schedule. The next day he called her, at the same time he had called her before and from the same number, she would know it was him, and she would answer if she wanted…

He called the next day and the day after that. She didn’t answer. He had known it could happen that Belle could not wanted to talk to him, but he continuous calling any ways.Stubbornly, like an addict looking for drugs. After all, he did was an addict, and Belle was his drug…

When she had answered his call, he didn’t really know what to say. He hadn’t dared to hope she would ever answer, think of it as a distant fantasy,and he never thought what he would say to her if she did answer.  That didn’t matter the first time she answered, because it took him more time to try to collect himself from the surprise that her to start crying.

Then in his mind there was space to only one thought: Belle was crying and he needed to make it better. He started to say nonsense to calm her. Her pain was so great that even he started to cry. Intellectually, Rumplestiltskin knew it was his call the thing that had upset her but he couldn’t bring himself to hang up, no leaving her like this, without anyone to comfort her; he had done it once, but he wouldn’t do it again. So he stayed in the line until she stopped crying and softly told him good night.

After hanging up that night, his first impression was to not call her again. A simple call had made her cry so sadly, why torture her with another… nevertheless she hadn’t told him to stop calling her, it had to be a sign, maybe he should call her the next day and ask her…

But thinking about if he should call her again or not, he forgot to think about what to say if she answered the phone. And when the time came, that night at 9:00 pm, he said something stupid, talking normally like he was in a business trip and he would come back in a few days, trying to avoid be the cause of more tears. It seemed to be the right thing to do, as Belle didn’t cry that time, and the next times she cried more calmly.

One night she asked him if he wanted to go back. He answered vaguely, not wanting to talk about it. Somehow it hurt him deeply, the futile hope of his return but he couldn’t banish the thought from his mind, that someday he could go back, and he would correct the endless amount of his mistakes… wherever that was a fantasy one thousand times more distant that the one about Belle answering his calls.

Until one day he felt the destruction of the barrier…

* * *

_“Belle? What happen? Are you OK? ...BELLE, Answer me!”_

Thinking in retrospective, Belle knew at least in an academic level, that she shouldn’t take decisions; neither do anything, on impulse, without thinking. She had a bad story with impulsive decisions. Generally when she acted without giving herself time to analyze appropriately the situation she created more problems than solved. Regardless, she seemed to have a poor impulse-control.

The moment she hit the call button, Belle knew she had made a mistake but she couldn’t hang up. She didn’t want to hang up. She wanted to talk to him. But she wasn’t sure she should. How to tell him that she was that she was tired, tired that no one seemed to take in count her feelings. That no one saw her for what she was but her association with others. Especially him. That the people she tried to help didn’t trust her because she was his wife, because she was still in love with him.

Belle breathed deeply. He sounded so worried. In his own way, he had always cared for her… he had always tried to protect her, going to extremes to do it… if she told him her feelings, he might try to do something to correct it, like to stop calling… and she couldn’t imagine that…

She let a dry laugh at the thought, it only make Rumple more worried about her…

Calming herself, she reassured him that she was OK, and no, she wasn’t in any imminent danger. Anticipating to the unavoidable question, she told him that she had needed someone to talk and he had been the first person that popped on her mind.

He sounded calmer after that and decided to ask her about what had upset her.

She didn’t now what to told him, so she told him just the facts, putting aside her feelings. She told him that she had found a way to break the barrier, that she had worked so hard to do it and Regina had taken the credit for it.

He listened to her. He didn’t interrupt or made any comments while she was talking, he just listened to her tale from beginning to end. At the end, he asked her the question that she had been asking herself:

_“What are you going to do now?”_

Belle didn’t know what to do…

* * *

Even before she called to tell him, Rumplestiltskin knew it was Belle the one that discover how to break the barrier. First because she was determined,if she wanted the barrier gone, it was just a matter of time before she found a way to do it; second because no one in StoryBrooke had the brains to do so, she was the only one, Henry might have an idea or two, but the lad couldn’t have found the spell by himself. It had to be Belle.

Resolved the “who”, it left the more complicated “why”. Why would Belle want the barrier gone? He remembered her call days ago, asking him if he wanted to come back. Was this for him? Maybe a little bit… but that couldn’t be the only reason…

Ah! His clever girl… Belle wanted to see the world, but the barrier made it a one-way trip. She wanted to travel but she couldn’t do it indefinitely, shewould need a place to rest, a home. And StoryBrooke was her home. She needed to know that if she wanted to go back she could do it without problem…

After he ended the call, Rumplestiltskin looked at the papers on his desk. Divorce papers. He had started to prepare them after the first time she had answered his call. Hearing that torrent of tears made him get in count of how much he had hurt her. He could ask for her forgiveness but to ask for a second chance, especially when it wasn’t a second chance seemed like a disaster waiting to happen. It was stupid. He had broken her heart twice now, he didn’t want to do it thrice… but he was sure that sooner than later, he would do it, in one way or another.

He had indulged in the phone calls because they _were_ safe, the moment he hurt her, Belle could shut him out without any problem, but now with the barrier gone, this was a risk in potential. It was better to stop this now.

His beautiful, witty Belle wouldn’t like the idea but with time she would come if not to like it, to understand that this was for the best…

She might suggest they continuous been friends, or she might want to cut any contact with him after the divorce. It wouldn’t matter, he was sure he would never stop loving her; he would do everything for her, even letting her go… that would be the best. In that case Belle would concentrate on heal without having to worry about him. No matter how much he suffered, what matter was Belle…

He put the papers on an envelope; he had to pack for a trip…

He didn’t go back immediately after the barrier was gone. He needed some days to gather all the courage inside him to do it.

He didn’t tell Belle about his plan. After all he wasn’t going back to settle indefinitely in StoryBrooke. He would go back, correct some mistakes and then lose himself in the world. That was his plan.

To him, the trip back to StoryBrooke seemed larger than any trip he had done…

* * *

It was almost 8:00 pm, when he passed the red sprayed town line. It was ironic, somehow. If this was a normal day, in an hour he would be calling Belle and they would talk for hours. But this wasn’t a normal day, and in an hour Belle would be signing the divorce papers, and they would be a marriage no more…

Everything seemed calmed in the town; he drove his car avoiding Main Street the more possible, and parked behind his shop.  He entered his shop noticing that nothing seemed out of place, like if no one had touched anything since the last time he was there. Looking in his desk he found a bottle of his favorite scotch. Taking a sip he went to the library.

The library was closed; surely Belle was having dinner on Granny’s tonight. This was better. With a flick of his wrist, the door opened, and he entered the dark place.

Without even looking around, he put the envelope in the circulation desk, and walking slowly he got out of there.

* * *

She never expected this. Divorce papers. She would have thought them a bad joke, or someone idea of saving her if his firm wasn’t at the bottom of the page. But there it was, neatly done with a blue pen.

In the first days after she had banished him, some persons had told her to file for a divorce, but she had been so hurt to think about it, to think about anything concerning him. Then, the phone calls had started and she had nursed the hope that once the barrier was gone they could try to work on their marriage. But it seemed that he had other ideas about it.

In that moment she noticed the little details. The papers were in an envelope, without a stamp or return address. Moreover, there wasn’t a postal service in StoryBrooke since the last curse. How these papers had come here?

That could only mean one thing. He was in StoryBrooke…

* * *

After his excursion to StoryBrooke Public Library, he had locked himself in the back of the pawnshop, firmly intended on finishing his whole bottle of scotch…

He had been drinking by an hour or so, when he felt something vibrate in his pants, and a loud sound coming from somewhere. Puzzle he looked in his pockets to discover it was his phone that was ringing. Without check it he threw it in the table, asking himself why the hell it wouldn’t shut up. A person couldn’t drink to oblivion in peace! It was then when he thought about a game: Every time the phone rang he would drink a shot. He may have been a little drunk by now, but who cared? Refilling his glass, he started the game.

* * *

Belle stared helplessly to the divorce papers, her cell phone was abandoned in her desk… she had been trying to contact Rumple by almost half an hour before giving up; every time she called the phone rang for some seconds before the call was disconnected. She should have taken the hint after the first five or so calls but she wanted an explanation, so she continuous calling until she couldn’t more.

Crying, she desisted of calling. Clearly he wasn’t ready to talk to her now. But she didn’t sign the papers immediately; this time she would think this appropriately.

She was still staring to the papers when the phone rang. Amazed she saw it was him calling. It hadn’t pass five minutes since her last call, why now?

With her heart in her hands, she answered the phone:

* * *

  _Why didn’t you continuous calling?”_

_“What?!”_

_“You didn’t call, I was playing and I cannot drink if you don’t call, CALL ME!”_

_“You were playing?!”_

_“Aye… hip!”_

_“Are you drunk?”_

_“Am the Dark One I know how to handle my liquor… HIP!”_

_“Why are you drinking?”_

_“‘Cause I’m letting mah Belle go, and am sad…”_

_“You are letting “your Belle” go?!”_

_“Aye, I love her and she would be better without me…”_

_“No that’s not true Rumple…”_

_“But it’s true I love her, love her, and love her sooooo much…”_

_“I love you too Rumple, but I don’t want to go….”_

_“Belle? Belle, mah Belle... Don’t cry mah Belle you would make me cry…”_

Belle smile softly between the tears, and then she heard a loud sound in the background.

-BANG!-

_“Rumple what happen?”_

_“Rumple!  …RUMPLE!”_

* * *

He waked up in a room that looked so much like _their_ bedroom. He had dreamed many times waking up in that bed to discover everything had been a nightmare, a horrible nightmare, and that his wife was still with him… only to waked up in the reality, knowing that he had failed his wife and there wasn’t any possibility she could forgive him…

His head was killing him. How much had he drunk yesterday?

 Slowly he moved to a sitting position, to discover that he wasn’t in a room that looked like _their_ bedroom. _He was in their bedroom._ How the hell this happened?

Making a effort he tried to remember what he did the night before… he went to the library and left the Divorce papers, because Belle wasn’t there; then he went to his shop to drink himself to death, or as near as possible, then his phone rang, and rang, and rang until it stopped ringing and then he called back to…

The realization hit him at the same time that a wave of nausea. Hurriedly he went to the bathroom. When he came back, there was someone waiting for him in the bedroom.

“Belle…”

She looked more beauty than he remembered. She wasn’t smiling but she wasn’t crying either. She was sitting in the bed, pressing her lovely lips in a thin line, and she had her arms crossed over her chest.

“I see you are felling better”

He felt nauseating, confused and embarrassed, not _better_ but he didn’t say anything of this. Instead sheepishly, he asked her:

“What happen? I don’t remember how I got here.”

“We were talking in the phone when I heard a sound and you didn’t respond. It seemed that you felt from your chair. You were pretty drunk.”

“Oh… and you bring me here…”

“Yeah…”

Belle bit her lip, and slowly rose from the bed, walking until she was in from of him.

“Rumple, is it true what you told me yesterday, that you love me but you think I would be better without you…”

“Sweetheart, I love you and I don’t want to hurt you anymore… It’s better if you forget about me. Go, travel, and see the world.”

“I don’t want to forget you.”

He softly touched her cheek, and she closed her eyes, letting fall some tears. Slowly she put her head in his shoulder, embracing him.

“I love you and I don’t want to be without you… We could, no we should make this work.”

He stayed completely still for sometime not saying or doing anything. Belle tried to move to see him to the eyes, when she felt his arms encasing her.

“I don’t want to be without you neither.”

* * *

 The library was closed that day, the next day and the day after that. When the _heroes_ remembered it existed and revised it, they found Divorce papers threw in the circulation desk, but they couldn’t find the librarian …


End file.
